His Wish
by BTS-ARMY
Summary: The problem with immortality is that you are always left behind...It's China's birthday and Russia asks him to make a wish. Pre Sino-Soviet split. Rochu. One-shot.


AN: A bit naughty, but nothing too heavy lol.

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A drift of wind shook the remaining golden leaves from its fragile attachment to the branches. Some fell to the ground and joined its fallen brothers, while others persisted stubbornly. Unwilling, unyielding to the natural process of obliteration. But its unbending proclamation was soon defeated by another gust of wind. The earth was littered with red, orange, yellow, and brown. And the trees stood almost completely bare of any garments; the branches trembled as if they were embarrassed by their barren state. Colonies of ants moved soundlessly and restlessly under the fallen leaves, determined to transport their preciously collected nourishment underground for the approaching winter. Indeed winter was coming, and all living things seemed to know it; they either began migrating south or preparing for the harsh winter ahead.

While things struggled to adapt to their changing environment, a figure sat motionlessly on the porch of the gigantic estate. This man seemed to observe the changing colors of the wind, but his eyes were impassively calm like the undisturbed surface of a pond. He looked, yet he didn't look. Not really. For what he saw was merely a season coming to an end. Nothing more, nothing less. But maybe this wasn't true, maybe his eyes extended further beyond the restriction of the brick walls surrounding the garden…

Long dark hairs were tied carelessly into a ponytail and within the black riptides were tangles and split ends. He didn't brush his hair this morning. He never did these days unless that man told him to. Wearing only a thin layer of a cotton military shirt, his body shivered slightly yet his mind didn't seem to notice. Pants rolled up at the bottom with boots that were once black but now only pigmented with a pathetic grey color, he crossed and uncrossed his legs.

Sometimes he would tap his feet to an erratic rhythm that only existed in his mind, yet his eyes were always fixed to that invisible point somewhere beyond where his eyes could see.

Heavy footsteps thumped on top of the wooden porch and the floor squeaked with each step taken. Even as it became louder and harder to ignore, the seated figure remained unmoved. Not unaware, perhaps indifference.

"Happy birthday Yao," Ivan lowered his back and whispered into the ears of the older nation. He proceeded to nuzzle his head against the smooth neck and placed kisses over the skin where warm blood pulsed under. Some kisses were light as the touch of a feather, some his lips sucked greedily unwilling to let go of the flesh, while some his teeth grazed dangerously before biting down with the intention of leaving marks. Yao shifted his head slightly away from him, "What birthday?" he asked.

Chuckling at the question, Ivan dropped his head on Yao's shoulders. "Did you forget it was your birthday today?"

Yao seemed to think thoughtfully for a moment. "What day is it?"

"October 1." It was an ordinary day. An uneventful day. It wasn't his birthday.

"That's not my birthday," Yao tilted his head to look at Ivan. There was no bitterness or hidden meaning in his words; the day simply meant nothing to him.

"Aww but I was sure it was today!" Ivan whined childishly. "Do you even remember your birthday?"

It was an easy question. "No, I don't think I ever knew the date." Yao shrugged, he didn't even know how many years he had lived, nevertheless the date. The earliest memories he had consisted of a world where mankind was still in its infancy.

"Then I say we make today your birthday!" Ivan smiled brightly and placed a delicate kiss on his cheek before bringing a plate in front of Yao. The porcelain plate contained a slice of cake coated with vanilla icing and emitted an overwhelmingly sweet smell. "I got you cake," as if the obvious piece of food wasn't evident enough.

"You know I don't like western food," Yao softly pushed the plate away even though he knew the action would not discourage Ivan in the slightest.

"But I had this ordered especially for you," Ivan was unfazed and insisted further. Yao raised his eyebrows and his expression said 'no'. "Come on Yao-yao, today is a special day." Although the sugary smell from the cake was unquestionably present, the look Ivan gave Yao was sweeter than any cake in the world. What a deceitful boy, Yao shook his head at his defeat and moved his body so that he was now facing Ivan. Opening his mouth a bit wider he said, "fine feed me."

At first a little taken back by Yao's change in attitude, Ivan quickly regained his composure and smirked at his lover's boldness. He looked at Yao once more as if he was confirming his words, in return Yao's eyes merely glinted as the descending sun casted light over its domain. Sticking two fingers into the cake, Ivan sliced a small piece of the cake using his bare hand and slowly but steadily brought his fingers into Yao's mouth. The cake stuck on his fingers accompanied with cream, and the moment they entered the wet canal, Ivan felt Yao's tongue swirling around the two calloused fingers. Wiping the cream away and licking until his fingers were coated in nothing but his saliva, Ivan felt his hand move unconsciously in harmony to Yao's tongue. Never taking his eyes off Yao's face, blood was rushing all over his body at the sight of Yao's flushed face and it reminded him of how he looked yesterday night with his mouth open and gulping down the enormous…

Ivan took out his hands and rubbed the liquid over his coat. He breathed a sigh of relief as the concentrated blood accumulating in his lower region began to dissipate away. Yao wiped the hints of saliva from the corner of his mouth, and laughed as if he could read what Ivan was thinking. "It was very sweet," Yao bit down on his lips suppressing the laughter yet his mouth curled into a genuine smile. Leaning on Ivan's chest, Yao snuggled comfortably after deciding he had teased Ivan enough. Two lean arms enclosed around his waist, he let himself be completely emerged in the warmth of the northern nation. It was only then that he realized he was cold before this moment.

"You were supposed to make a wish," Ivan muttered softly.

"Hmm?" Yao placed his hands on top of the other pair of hands.

"Before you eat the cake, you were supposed to make a wish."

"I don't have any wishes." He had everything he could wish for, and the ones he didn't have… well they were impossible to wish for in the first place.

"Come one Yao, any wish," Ivan persisted. There was a sense of urgency in his voice that went beyond the walls of the garden. "I can grant you anything you want."

 _No you can't_. That was what he was meant to say. "I don't….I really don't want anything Vanya." Maybe that was a bit harsh too. "You have already given me so much," he added.

"But Yao," Ivan tightened his grip. "Anything! As a nation I may not have the freedom to make my decisions selfishly, but as Ivan Braginsky I will do anything for you." It wasn't a lie. "I love you so much that I want to prove it not only with words but action too."

Yao closed his eyes and felt a gust of cold wind. The sun had almost disappeared from the horizon.

"Well I do have one wish…" Yao murmured almost like he was speaking to himself.

"What is it?" Ivan asked eagerly.

"I wish…" he chuckled in the middle of his sentence. "I wish I could die before you."

Ivan didn't move. The leaves were lifted off the ground and pushed further from the tree. Yao continued, "They always leave me behind. Every single one of them. I'm tired of being left behind. Really really tired." He stopped as if to contemplate on something. "Everything I ever cared about, I outlived them all. And today marks another day where I will continue to drift in this sleepless dream."

"Yao…"

"Ivan you can't become like them," Yao turned so that he was facing Ivan again. "I don't want to see you depart from me and then I will have to…" His voice quivered and his hands trembled as he held Ivan's cheeks in his palms. "Let me die before you please…"

Desperation. Lunacy. Love…

"What about me Yao?" Ivan whispered. "What will I do if you disappear from me?"

Yao didn't say anything. He brought his lips against Ivan's and let their lips and tongues entangle in a familiar routine. Clothes were soon discarded to the side, and in the autumn air two bodies became mingled together over the blanket of scattered leaves.

Autumn passed and winter came. Then spring and summer.

Of course, the cycle perpetuated over and over again. Yet just like all of his other wishes, the one he made in the fall of 1958 never came true.

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AN: The last line refers to the fall of Soviet Union since Ivan technically "passed away" before Yao. (BUT he came back T.T!)

Not really that proud of this one (was originally going to be a scene in another fic)...but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Hugs and Kisses.


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